


In The Cookie Jar

by GoldenTruth813



Series: And Hana Makes Three [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Fluff and Smut, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Top Keith (Voltron), aka thats parental life, and dont get enough time alone, shiro and keith have a daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 13:57:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20836625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813
Summary: It’s been weeks since Shiro and Keith had a moment alone and Keith is determined to make up for lost time.Or the one where Shiro keeps lube in the cookie jar and they fuck in the kitchen.





	In The Cookie Jar

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Intertwined: Sheith Family Zine NSFW section. It follows a canon divergent timeline where Shiro and Keith adopt a little Galra girl named Hana. You do not need to read my other fic in this series or anything else from the zine to understand this fic which stands on its own (but everything else is lovely!). All you need to know for this fic is that Shiro and Keith are new parents and exhausted and happy but also missing time together.
> 
> Thank you TDCats for the beta you're wonderful! <3

Keith let out an audible sigh as he quietly shut Hana’s door behind him. As per usual he stood in silence, hand poised just above the door handle, listening for any sound that might indicate Hana had woken up and noticed his absence. After several minutes of blissful silence Keith felt safe enough that she was actually out for the night and began to meander down the long hallway—eyes tracing the photos that now lined the wall. It was hard for Keith to believe Hana had only been in their home for six weeks when it already felt like she’d been in their hearts forever. 

Shiro had been nearly fanatical with his camera since the moment they’d been able to pick up Hana. Photos of the first time she’d given Keith a hug and her disastrous attempt to help Shiro make cookies on their first weekend home alone together as a family. Photos of their first family dinner and the over complicated fort Shiro and Hana had constructed afterwards. There were even photo frames with several of Hana’s art already framed in all it’s artistic glory. In just those few short weeks Shiro had already begun to fill the wall with memories, and Keith’s heart overflowed with affection for his husband and their daughter. He could remember a time when he thought he’d never have Shiro, or a family, but now that felt like another lifetime.

He trailed his fingers over the edges of the frames, lost in memories, until he reached their wedding photos. Shiro’s radiant face smiled back at him. 

It took a few moments before Keith realized how long he’d been standing in the darkened hallway, and he jogged down the stairs two at time. As his foot hit the solid floor, his eyes were drawn to the large ornate clock that hung on the far fall—it was only five minutes after eight. Keith’s mouth nearly fell open in shock. In the weeks since they’d brought Hana home, the house had been filled with so much joy, but that didn’t mean it was free of struggles. Most night’s bedtime had lasted well over an hour as Hana begged for extra stories, refused to sleep, suddenly needed an extra glass of water, had to pee, or developed an immediate need to see the moon one last time.

Hana’s adjustment had not been as smooth as either of them had naively hoped, and their little girl was often plagued with low-grade anxiety about being left alone, an inability to fall asleep at night, and clinginess when Shiro or Keith had to work. It’d taken them awhile to realize posting a laminated photo schedule on the fridge so she knew what days her daddys would be at work would ease her worry about where they might be the next day, or that getting a star projection lamp for her room would help her sleep because it reminded her of space. Tonight was the first night since they’d brought her home that bedtime had been relatively smooth—three bedtime stories while the little projector on her night table lit up the room in stars, an extra hug and three Eskimo kisses, and then Hana had drifted off to sleep clutching her hippo as Keith stroked her soft purple hair. 

Keith’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of humming, and he stepped over the pile of colorful blocks scattered across the floor. A small replica of the spaceship Hana had seen Shiro fly in a photo at the Garrison last week sat in the middle of the pile. He shook his head in bemusement at the memory of Hana scrambling into Shiro’s lap and pressing her face close to as she had begged him not to clean up the mess so she could play again in the morning. Shiro been an absolute goner for those big purple eyes, kissing her forehead before scooping her up with one arm and carrying her off for bathtime. Not that Keith was much better at denying her anything, since one bedtime story often became three or four. It felt impossible to deny Hana those small bits of happiness, especially as they all found their balance and settled into their new routines.

The closer Keith got to the kitchen, the louder the humming became and the sight that met him when he crossed through the wide archway had Keith biting the inside of his cheek to fight off his smile. Shiro’s back was turned to Keith, a bright purple dish towel thrown over his shoulder as he hummed “baby alien doo doo”—the song he and Shiro usually sang to distract Hana during hair washing time since she hated it—as he washed the dinner dishes. Shiro was rocking his hips side to side while he continued to hum, completely unaware he was being watched, adding the small pink castle-shaped plate he’d just watched to the dish dryer on the counter. Keith marveled at the counter covered in multiple plastic plates with different sections for food and a million plastic cups with straws attached in different designs and wondered how one child could possibly need so many dishes. 

The longer Shiro rocked his hips from side to side in time with the obnoxiously catchy song, the less attention Keith paid to the growing pile of clean dishes or the mess of dirty pots and pans still on the stove from dinner. Instead, all he could pay attention to was the swell of Shiro’s butt in his worn grey sweatpants and the way his white t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and showed off every single muscle in his back, as well as highlighting the fact that his waist was tiny. He glanced at the blinking clock on the microwave—8:09—and let out a slow breath as he realized they were alone. Alone and not collapsing into bed bone tired and too exhausted for more than a quick peck on the lips and a cuddle.

Not that Keith wanted to be without Hana, it was just that standing there watching Shiro sway as he happily did the dishes made Keith ache with longing for his husband. Fuck, but Shiro was a good husband. A good dad. A good man. And Keith missed him. It was crazy to miss someone who was around all the time, but the truth was Keith missed Shiro. He missed being able to spend hours in bed mapping Shiro’s body, missed spending lazy evenings with Shiro fucking him slow and sweet. He missed being able to corner Shiro in the kitchen and pulling him off, not worrying about whether dinner got served late. It occurred to him then that the adjustment hadn’t only been hard on Hana but all of them. 

The second he had the thought his stomach churned with guilt. He didn’t for a moment resent the changes their lives had incurred recently. He didn’t want to go back to the way things were before Hana, because that would mean no Hana, and Keith couldn’t imagine their lives without her. He loved her fiercely and was overjoyed she was part of their family now, and he knew Shiro felt the same. Hana was theirs, and they were hers. Forever. It was just that as much as they’d read books about parenting and adopting and spent months preparing, nothing could ever truly prepare you for the way your life changed with the arrival of a child. Especially a child as feisty and full of life as Hana. A child who got into trouble the second Keith or Shiro blinked, who had her own trauma from losing her birth parents, and who was both curious and stubborn and seemed to lack any sense of safety awareness. They were always on high alert tending to her needs, which Keith accepted as part of parenthood. He loved taking care of her. But god, he missed Shiro.

A visceral longing filling his chest he walked across the room and pressed himself up against Shiro’s back, burying his face in between Shiro’s shoulder blades and wrapping his arms around him tightly. Shiro startled but relaxed the second he realized it was Keith, returning to his task of washing dishes, though this time without the humming.

“Hey, baby,” Shiro said, voice soft and full of fondness. 

“Hi,” Keith grunted, hands roaming up and down Shiro’s stomach, the thin cotton of his t-shirt bunching up beneath his hands.

Keith heard the sink faucet being turned off as Shiro removed the dish towel to dry his hands before attempting to turn around, but Keith’s hold on him was too tight. Keith squeezed him even tighter, closing his eyes and inhaling, the scent of Shiro’s freshly laundered t-shirt and his cologne filling Keith’s nose. It was so familiar the tension in Keith’s shoulders began to unwind as he loosened his grip enough that Shiro was able to turn around in his hold until Keith’s face was no longer buried against Shiro’s back and was instead pressed into Shiro’s neck.

“You alright?” Shiro asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Never better,” Keith answered, peppering the side of Shiro’s neck with barely there kisses as his hands slipped beneath the hem of Shiro’s shirt and slid around to his back. Shiro’s inhale was soft but audible as the palms of Keith’s hands caressed the warm skin.

“Hana go down okay?” Shiro asked, his heart already beating faster.

“She asked for the bedtime story where Prince Takashi saves the kingdom again,” Keith mumbled, his kisses now trailing up the side of Shiro’s neck. “Between you and me, I think this Takashi fellow might be her new hero.”

“Oh,” Shiro gasped, though Keith wasn’t sure whether it was from Keith’s ministrations against the sensitive spot on the side of his neck below his ear or slight embarrassment that his off-the-cuff self-insertion into a fairy tale last week had become Hana’s favorite bedtime story.

“What do you make of the Prince?” Shiro asked, his surprise finally giving way to action as he let his hands rest firmly on Keith’s sides. He gave them a squeeze, his thumbs slipping beneath the waistband of Keith’s pants to settle against his hip bones. He barely even moved them, his thumbs rubbing the smallest circles against Keith’s skin, but that touch alone set his ears ringing as he let out his own soft gasp and rocked his hips against Shiro. Fuck, but he’d missed being touched like that. It’d clearly been too long if his hip bones were now serving as an erogenous zone, Keith’s cock hardening with every small movement.

“I think,” Keith started, abandoning Shiro’s neck in favor of pulling back to stare into Shiro's eyes, “the Prince has a husband who has missed him very much recently and wants nothing more than to fuck him until the Prince can’t remember his own name.”

Shiro groaned, fingers tightening on Keith’s hips as he pulled him closer, rolling his hips against Keith’s and leaving no question in Keith’s mind that Shiro had become turned on just as quickly. “Please tell me you didn’t tell that part to Hana.”

Keith barked out a laugh. “Trust me, I left out the details of Prince Takashi’s sex life from our three-year-old’s bedtime story. As far as she’s concerned the Prince went back to his castle to play with a litter of space wolves he’d recently adopted and eat chocolate chip cookies.”

Shiro’s eyes were alight with amusement, his lip quirking up in a smile. “And what's the true story?”

“The true story is after the Prince ate all the cookies and put the puppies to bed, his very handsome and loyal knight Sir Keith took him to bed and proceeded to fuck him so good the Prince didn’t know if he wanted to weep or cry because it’d been so long since they were together.”

Shiro’s hands began to drift, the rest of his fingers joining his thumbs to slide beneath Keith’s waistband, this time finding their way to his ass. “This knight fellow sure thinks a lot of himself. You sure he’s up to the challenge?” he asked, stealing a searing kiss and making Keith’s ability to answer nonexistent, what with Shiro’s soft, supple lips gliding against his own while Shiro’s fingers dug into his flesh.

Keith bit back a groan. “Shiro.”

Shiro pulled out of the kiss, dropping his forehead down to rest against Keith’s as he tried to catch his breath. “God, I love you, baby.”

Keith’s chest filled with warmth, unable to believe after so many years the way those three words could still feel as special as the first time. “I love you too.”

“You feel so good,” Shiro said, hands unexpectedly leaving Keith’s pants. Keith didn’t have long to be disappointed, because then Shiro unceremoniously pulled Keith’s shirt off and tossed it on the floor. 

Keith opened his mouth, though whatever it was he was going to say was lost as Shiro began to mouth his way across Keith’s neck and down his chest. It took Keith longer than it should have to realize what Shiro had in mind, and before he’d even had time to anticipate the next movement, Shiro was on his knees—his big hands already undoing the buttons on Keith’s jeans and tugging them down so he could get to Keith’s cock.

Keith held his breath, unable to speak or move in an attempt to memorize the image of his beautiful husband kneeling before him like that—his eyes wide and hopeful and only on Keith.

Shiro was slow and purposeful, his gaze never leaving Keith’s face as he opened his mouth and took in just the tip, swirling his tongue around the slit as he blinked up at Keith.

“Fuck,” Keith bit out, his hands flying up to fist in Shiro’s hair and curling his fingers tightly into the soft white stands that fell onto Shiro’s face. He let his thumb stroke across Shiro’s forehead, delighting in the hum of approval Shiro emitted as he took Keith deeper.

It never failed to surprise Keith even after all these years how fast Shiro was to drop to his knees, how much he loved sucking Keith off and making him feel good. And feel good he did, Keith’s eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head as Shiro’s hands caressed the insides of his thighs before cupping his balls and sucking him even deeper, the tip of his cock hitting the back of Shiro’s throat.

Like an oncoming storm Keith could feeling his release building, feel himself getting closer as Shiro bobbed his head and sucked as if he he’d never had anything better than Keith’s cock in his mouth. 

“God, stop before I come,” Keith forced himself to get out, gently urging Shiro off his cock but tugging on his hair.

Shiro inhaled a shuddering breath, eyes beginning to water as he tilted his face up to look at Keith in confusion. His cheeks were flushed, his lips spit soaked and swollen, and Keith could barely believe he’d uttered the word stop when he had Shiro on his knees like that. Fuck, but Shiro was so handsome it took Keith’s breath away. 

“What’s wrong?” Shiro asked, his fingers still caressing Keith’s inner thigh. As always, his sole concern was Keith, and it made Keith ache to fuck him so good—to take care of him. Not that Keith didn’t love it the other way around. He loved when Shiro sucked him or fucked him, loved being taken apart and put back together again by the man before him. But there was something undeniably erotic about the times it was the other way around—a need deep in Keith’s soul that was only soothed when Shiro let Keith take care of him. No matter how much Keith loved being fucked by Shiro, there wasn’t a universe in existence where he didn’t equally enjoy being the one to fuck the man he loved. To fuck Shiro. Shiro, who rarely let his guard down for anyone. Shiro who put every single person before himself, but who trusted Keith enough to let Keith take care of him. Shiro who trusted Keith to love every single part of him. 

“Nothing,” Keith insisted, hands moving under Shiro’s arms to tug him up. “Want to fuck you. Please. It’s been so long.”

Shiro inhaled sharply as he rose to his full height. “You know I’m always yours, baby.”

“Mine,” Keith agreed, Shiro’s words settling in his heart as he surged forward to kiss him. 

Shiro hummed into the kiss, letting out a noise of disappointment when Keith unexpectedly pulled out of it almost immediately. Before Shiro could ask what was wrong again, Keith grabbed the hem of Shiro’s shirt and lifted it up.

“Too many clothes,” he grumbled in frustration.

A quiet laugh rumbled in Shiro’s chest as he pushed away Keith’s hands and tugged the shirt off in one impressively smooth movement. As he watched Shiro hook his hands in the elastic of his waistband and begin to tug it down, it occurred to Keith that his own pants were still tangled around his knees. He toed off his shoes, grabbing onto the counter behind him for balance as he clumsily kicked his boxers and jeans into a pile while trying not to remove his eyes from Shiro, who somehow managed to make the simple act of undressing seem like foreplay. 

Keith knew Shiro well enough to know he wasn’t doing it on purpose. He was simply kicking off his shoes and taking off his sweatpants, but the way he moved was full of strength and grace, and Keith had the urge to shove his fist into his mouth and scream when Shiro finally stood before him naked and relaxed, with not a hint of self-consciousness. 

“You gonna stare all night, baby, or—” but Keith didn’t let him finish, instead twining a hand around the back of Shiro’s neck and tugging him down for a searing kiss. This time he had no intention of stopping it as he rolled his hips up and hissed into the kiss when their cocks rubbed together, hot and heavy. 

Shiro moaned at the contact, his tongue slipping out to tangle with Keith’s as he grabbed ahold of Keith’s ass and slid one leg in between Keith’s to increase the friction.

“You make me crazy,” Keith said, rutting against Shiro like they were teenagers again. He knew he could come just like this, knew they both could. Shiro’s fingers were already twitching as they kneaded his butt and tried to pull him against him harder and faster—a sense of desperation Keith wasn’t used to seeing in the other man this soon. Keith knew then he wasn’t the only one who’d been missing this, wasn't the only one needing to touch and be touched. It renewed Keith’s conviction as he broke the kiss, though he didn’t stop moving against Shiro.

“Wanna fuck you,” Keith gasped, shaking his head to dislodge the hair sticking to his forehead, unwilling to remove his hands from Shiro’s tiny waist.

“Want you to fuck me,” Shiro answered, taking pity on him and slowing their pace, lifting his prosthetic to gently brush the hair from Keith’s eyes. “You gonna fuck me so good, baby?”

Keith bit down on his bottom lip to keep from whimpering. Fuck, but Shiro had a surprisingly dirty mouth sometimes, and Keith loved it. Nothing got him hotter than listening to Shiro talk about what he was doing to Keith, or even more, what he wanted Keith to do to him.

“Yes,” Keith said, blunt fingernails dragging across the rippled muscles of Shiro’s lower back. “Tell me how you want it. I’ll give it to so good, Shiro. Let me give it to you.”

This time it was Shiro’s turn to falter, his eyes fluttering shut as he inhaled slowly, clearly trying to calm himself down. When he opened his eyes again they were ablaze with desire, and Keith could feel sense the intensity of his arousal in the way he trembled beneath him.

“Want you to turn me over and fuck me. Want you to take me hard and fast without a moment to catch my breath. I want your cock slamming into me as your fingers dig into my hips hard enough to leave marks. I want you to fuck me so hard I can barely sit through my meetings tomorrow. I want to be so full of you I can barely breathe, barely think. I want you to make me yours, baby.”

“Jesus fucking christ,” Keith breathed as he rolled their hips together, his stomach smearing with precome, though whether it was Shiro’s or his he couldn’t be sure. The kiss was too hard, their teeth clanking together as Keith snapped his hips against Shiro, but it was perfect all the same. “God, I’m gonna fuck you so good, you don’t even know.”

“Show me,” Shiro murmured in between kisses. “Show me, baby.”

“God,” Keith huffed.

This time it was Shiro who startled Keith by breaking the embrace, taking two steps back and reaching for the the lid of the cookie jar that was shoved in the far corner well out of Hana’s reach.

“You want a cookie?” Keith asked, unable to disguise his incredulity. “Right now.”

Shiro snorted, the ceramic lid loud as it was plopped on the counter-top. Shiro reached in and pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom, and Keith’s mouth fell open in surprise. 

“Gotta be prepared,” Shiro said, his ears turning red with embarrassment, though there was a bit of undisguised pride on his face as well, as if he were both slightly abashed but also immensely pleased with himself.

“My husband, the boy scout. No wonder you told Hana no cookies after dinner. I just assumed you ate them all when I was at work yesterday.”

Shiro ducked his head, the blush deepening. “We have cookies. I put them in a Tupperware in the pantry.”

Keith was not about to argue with Shiro about the appropriate place to store cookies versus sex paraphernalia, both because Shiro’s idiosyncrasies in the kitchen were oftentimes as confusing as they were adorable, and because this current one very clearly benefited Keith. Well that, and the idea that Shiro had apparently been stashing supplies in random places in the house in the hope of sex with Keith made his chest flood with warmth. Not that Keith ever had any doubt about how much Shiro wanted him, but the last few weeks had been parent mode twenty-four/seven, and while he didn’t resent a minute of it, it felt nice to have this moment with Shiro—a moment as husbands with Shiro’s desire for him so obvious.

“You don’t think Hana will come find us, do you?” Shiro asked, passing the lube and condom to Keith. He looked worried, and the last thing Keith wanted was for Shiro to be unable to relax when his entire goal was to leave him boneless and blissed out.

Keith shook his head. “She’s louder than Lance. There’s no way we wouldn’t hear her. Plus, she’s still asleep,” he said, nodding towards the video monitor next to the coffee pot. The only thing visible on the black and white screen were Hana’s fuzzy little ears peeking out from beneath her star-covered blanket. The first night they’d seen her like that Shiro had gone and woken Hana up, convinced she would suffocate in her sleep. Now they knew better. She simply loved to be cocooned beneath as many blankets and pillows and stuffed animals as possible, almost as if her bed were some sort of nest.

“Come here,” Keith said, opening his arms.

Shiro grinned, moving directly into Keith’s personal space and cupping his face with his hands. His chest was pressed against Keith’s, his cock hard and leaking against Keith’s hip as he moved his mouth against Keith’s. 

Keith sighed into the kiss, barely able to think straight as Shiro kissed him slow and sweet, his left hand flailing blindly towards the counter for the lube. It only took a few swipes at the counter before he grabbed ahold of the familiar tube, flipping it open and squirting a generous amount on his fingers behind Shiro’s back, all without having to break the kiss.

“Such a sweet thing,” Shiro hummed into the kiss, thumbs caressing Keith’s cheeks.  
Keith smiled into the kiss, the tube of lube falling from his hand and to the floor with a clatter as his lube-covered fingers slid down Shiro’s body until they found their place—circling his hole and making him arch back into the touch. Shiro let out a soft moan of pleasure when Keith’s first finger slid in, but he still didn't break the kiss. Keith’s entire body thrummed with anticipation as he pushed his finger in deeper, the familiar heat encompassing him.

The angle wasn’t quite right. Despite the length of Keith’s arms Shiro was still taller than him, and despite Keith’s reluctance to stop kissing Shiro he also knew if he wanted to do this properly he needed Shiro turned around and spread out before him.

“Shiro,” Keith whispered against Shiro’s insistent lips, “wanna make you feel so good. Need you to turn around.”

“Wanna kiss you,” Shiro said, somehow managing to sound exceptionally petulant for a man of his age. If they were not kissing, Keith could imagine Shiro would’ve been pouting right about now.

“We can kiss all night when we’re in bed if you want, but if I don’t fuck you soon I might lose my mind,” Keith said, managing to add a second finger. His arm was overstretched, and he wouldn’t be able to keep it up long, but the increased friction as Keith angled his fingers up and found Shiro’s prostate was worth it as Shiro keened, abruptly pulling out of the kiss and spinning around so fast Keith’s fingers were dislodged. 

Keith swallowed, watching with rapt attention as Shiro learned forward and braced his hands on the edge of the dark marble counter tops, his muscles rippling as his shoulder blades pushed together. Shiro widened his stance, arching his back and putting himself on full display for Keith.

“Fuck me,” Keith mumbled, more to himself than Shiro.

Shiro turned his head to peer at Keith over his shoulder, a knowing smile on his face. “Next time, baby. This time you promised to make me feel it. Gonna show me how good you can give it to me?”

“You know it,” Keith answered with an echoing smile.

Shiro looked as if he wanted to say more, but whatever it might have been was lost as Keith draped himself over Shiro’s body and worked his fingers back in. This time there was no awkward struggling, no kisses to distract him—only Shiro. Shiro, whose head dropped down between his shoulders as Keith let his teeth drag along the arch of his spine. Shiro, who let out the softest mewl of appreciation as two of Keith’s fingers slid back inside his body. Shiro, who began to pant and writhe as Keith’s fingers moved in and out without pause, scissoring the muscle open and caressing the inside of his channel with the pads of his fingers. Shiro, whose toes curled up against the cold tile file when Keith found the bundled pad of nerves that made his husband bite back a scream as he pressed his lips into the hollow at the base of Shiro’s spine and sucked hard enough to leave a mark, all while he relentlessly stroked over Shiro’s prostate.

“Keith, fuck. Baby, please,” Shiro begged. “Please.” He widened his stance, bucking his hips back as he tried to take more of Keith’s fingers.

Keith spared a quick glance at the video monitor to reassure himself that Hana was still safely asleep and blissful unaware of what they were about to do in the kitchen, before removing his fingers from Shiro’s body to grab the condom. Shiro shivered at the loss but otherwise remained unmoved, his entire body held taut with tension as his labored breathing filled the room.

“Relax, love,” Keith whispered as he rolled on the condom, positioning himself behind Shiro.

“Keith,” Shiro breathed. Just his name, both a question and an answer. As if Keith were everything. Keith’s heart soared, and he grabbed ahold of his cock with one hand, the other anchoring himself to Shiro’s waist as he began to push in. 

“God,” Shiro exhaled, widening his stance just an inch or so more. Keith released his grip on Shiro’s side to let the flat of his palm glide up Shiro’s side to rest it on his back, marveling at the strength beneath his fingertips. Shiro was so strong, so capable, and his easy trust or submission never failed to fill Keith with awe.

Keith continued to slide in slowly, heart racing as he watched his dick disappear into the tight, warm heat of Shiro’s body. 

“You’re doing so good,” Keith said softly, unsure if it was for Shiro’s benefit or his own. Either way, Shiro’s chest visibly filled with pride as he inhaled deeply, making Keith’s ears buzz with pleasure. Fuck, Shiro was so beautiful—so trusting, so eager to please and be pleased. 

Bolstered by Shiro’s reaction to his praise, Keith rubbed circles along Shiro’s back until his hips were pressed flush against the swell of Shiro’s cheeks as he spoke, “So good. So perfect for me. Fuck, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you like this, spread out and desperate only for me.”

“Jesus, baby,” Shiro breathed, his fingers tightening on the edge of the counter until his knuckles turned white. Despite the stillness in his body, the lines of strain were visible in the clench of his ass around Keith’s cock, the lines of his shoulder muscles, and the almost imperceptible shift in his breathing patterns. Shiro was trying hard to control himself, and Keith wanted him to stop—wanted him to let go completely.

Keith’s hands trembled as he ran them up and down Shiro’s side before settling them at the smallest part of his waist, marveling that someone of Shiro’s mass could have a waist so small Keith could wrap his hands halfway around it. There was a fragility in his strength that made Keith want to cut down the world to protect him, even if he knew Shiro could protect himself. It terrified him sometimes to realize the things he would do to protect Shiro, and now Hana. There was nothing in the world he wouldn’t do to keep his family safe, to show them they were loved.

“Keith, please. Move, baby,” Shiro begged once more, voice ragged. “Fuck.”

This time Keith obliged, pulling his hips back, the drag of his cock making his fingers tighten against Shiro’s pale skin before he slammed his hips back—his dick disappearing once more. Still, Shiro didn’t move, the strain of his self-control making his arms shake.

“You work so hard, Shiro,” Keith said as he established a pace of slow but deep thrusts. “You take care of me and Hana so well, take care of the whole world. You can let me take care of you now though, can’t you? Let go just for me?”

The sound Shiro let out was almost broken as he dropped his forehead down to rest against the counter, an audible thud as he arched back into Keith.

“That’s it,” Keith praised, fingers twitching against Shiro’s skin. “You’re so good for me. So good to me. You make me so happy.”

Shiro’s groan was audible as he shifted, exhaling a shuddering breath. Keith could feel the exact moment Shiro finally let go, his dick sliding in deeper than ever as Shiro’s entire body went lax. Then it was Keith’s turn to groan as began to pick up speed, changing from the teasing pace to something he knew would get Shiro off faster—his thrusts shallow but fast and firm.

Keith wanted it to last forever; he wanted to watch the way Shiro moved his hips to meet Keith’s thrusts, to watch the play of muscles along his shoulders and feel the all-encompassing heat of Shiro’s body around him as he fucked into him as if he were made for nothing more than this. But Keith knew he couldn’t last, it’d been too long, and the desperation he felt both to come and to make Shiro come was too strong to resist. They had so much time ahead of them for teasing, for slow fucking, and for seeing who could last the longest. But here and now Keith wanted nothing more than to make Shiro lose control.

He struggled to catch his breath as his thrusts became erratic, his hips snapping frantically and the sound of their skin slapping together echoing throughout the stillness of the evening. Keith and Shiro were no strangers to fucking outside of the bedroom. Hell, Keith was pretty sure there was nowhere left in their entire home he hadn’t fucked or been fucked by Shiro, and yet something about this felt as illicit and exciting as if it were the first time. 

All too soon Keith felt his release building, felt it building to a peak until he couldn’t hold back any longer, and he buried his face in the hollow of Shiro’s shoulder blades muffling his moan against Shiro’s sweat-sheened skin.

“Baby, god,” Shiro whimpered.

Keith rocked his hips slowly, panting against Shiro’s skin as he pawed at him uselessly, his heart beating so fast he thought it might burst from his chest. Beneath him Shiro was still breathing heavily as Keith wound his arms around him. Shiro’s heart was thudding powerfully against his palm as Keith dragged his hands down the quivering muscles of Shiro’s stomach until he found his dick hanging hot and heavy between Shiro’s legs. At the first touch of Keith’s fingers around it, Shiro keened, his entire body vibrating with his arousal.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect for me,” Keith mumbled into Shiro’s skin, messy open mouthed kisses being pressed to Shiro’s shoulder as he squeezed firmly and began to pull him off. Drops of precome smeared Keith’s hand, the tip leaking as he sped up his strokes. Shiro’s noises stayed quiet, clearly afraid of being too loud, but Keith registered the increasing desperation and neediness in every little gasp and shudder. “You were made for me, Shiro, now come for me,” Keith urged, teeth scraping along the sharp line of Shiro’s scapula as he stroked and twisted Shiro’s dick 

Shiro nearly wailed, the fingers of his prosthetic noisily scraping across the marble counter top hard enough to leave a permanent scratch as Shiro came in hot spurts across the front of their polished white cabinets. 

Keith sucked in a shuddering breath as he imagined pulling the red glass bowl he liked to use to make pancakes from that same cupboard tomorrow morning for their special Sunday morning breakfast knowing he’d defiled Shiro against it. 

Keith slowed down his strokes, cognizant that it would be less than a minute before Shiro would be nearly in tears, too sensitive and frantic to get his mouth on Keith the way he always did after an orgasm. Sure enough, all it took was a few more strokes of his hand before Shiro’s boneless body was turning in his arms.

“My god, I love you,” Shiro uttered sweetly, his hands sliding up to fist in Keith’s hair as he joined their mouths. It wasn’t even really a kiss, more like Shiro simply needed to breathe the same air as Keith—needed to be as close as possible.

“I love you so much,” Keith echoed, his hands roaming over every square inch of Shiro’s warm bare skin he could reach.

Shiro hummed under Keith’s ministrations, still barely moving their lips together as his breathing evened out. He tugged the hair tie from Keith’s hair to get a better hold, his hands caressing it gently as he nuzzled his nose into Keith’s cheek and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then it was Keith’s turn to let out a soft sigh as Shiro touch him reverently.

“Mmm, you ready to take me upstairs and make good on that promise,” Keith asked, already imagining Shiro pressing him down into their bed and fucking him into a good night’s sleep.

Shiro opened his mouth to reply when a soft whimper caught their attention, and both of their heads swiveled to the small video monitor to see a pair of little ears popping out from beneath the blanket. Instead of rolling over and falling back to sleep, Hana’s head darted from side to side as she grabbed her hippo and slid off the bed.

“Shit,” Keith said, eyes darting around the kitchen for his jeans. Fuck, where had he thrown them?

“I got it baby,” Shiro said, ignoring his sticky thighs and lack of underwear as he grabbed his sweatpants off the floor and pulled them on swiftly. “Prince Takashi is on the job,” he said with mock seriousness and a wink, already jogging up the stairs two at a time before Keith could respond.

Keith didn’t bother fighting back his smile, turning his eyes on the video monitor. Not a minute later Shiro’s bulky frame came into view, Hana cradled in his arms as he laid her back in bed. He tucked her in, kissing her forehead, but before he could turn and leave Hana’s little hand was reaching out for his, and Shiro didn’t hesitate to crawl onto the other side of her bed—far too small for his muscled frame—as he laid his head on her pillow and stroked her hair.

Keith’s heart ached as he watched Hana roll over and press her little face into Shiro’s chest as she fell back asleep. God, but he loved his family.


End file.
